


Is You Is or Is You Ain't My Baby

by xRabbitx



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Friendship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 06:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7032754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xRabbitx/pseuds/xRabbitx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a hot, lonely night in Wakanda, and Bucky's getting frozen tomorrow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is You Is or Is You Ain't My Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U6MY--5KX24
> 
> Also, I meant for this to have a long, intense lead-up, but then porn happened.

~*~

_Mister Wooden, chakoom-chaa boom-pauw…_  
  
The insisting hum of the cicada reminds Steve of the exotic wars he would probably have fought if he hadn’t been frozen. He has seen them flicker past on the TV screen as he was catching up on everything had happened while he was gone. They looked bloody, brutal in a way he hadn’t witnessed since the first war he fought. Ungodly bombs that melt the flesh off people’s bones in an instant, silent deadly gasses, bullets that penetrate metal, flesh, and bones in a second… Steve is a little bit happy he was frozen. The moment when he found out about Hiroshima and Nagasaki is still edged into his brain like bloody tattoo. It had cost him a lot of his national pride, and he has been working hard ever since to regain what he had lost.  
     Steve shakes his head shuts the blinds as a flash of death passes by at the edge of his vision. The sickly-sweet smell tickles his nostrils, and a sudden urge to regurgitate his dinner overtakes him. He swallows it down, the urge and the dinner, and goes to the small bathroom to splash some water on his face. Wakanda is a beautiful country in every way. He and Bucky arrived just a few days ago, but the heat is already getting to Steve, crawling under his skin and slowly infecting his blood. Sometimes Steve thinks that being frozen for so long affected his ability to tolerate heat somehow, although it didn’t seem to affect anything else. At night he tosses and turns in feverish nightmares about the past, the present, and the future. Tony’s dark eyes keep haunting all his dreams; so much disappointment and regret in them. Tony still hasn’t replied to Steve’s letter, and Steve isn’t sure he ever will. Their bond, however fragile and ridiculous it was, has maybe been broken beyond repair.  
  
_Is you is or is you ain't my baby? The way you're acting lately makes me doubt…_  
  
It’s stupid, but looking over the list of all the things he missed makes him feel better; “Star Wars”? Done, and mildly entertained. Tim Tams? Done, and delicious. Nirvana? Done, and possibly deaf. The list never seems to stop. Every time he encounters a new person for more than five minutes, they always want to add new things for him to see. Steve smiles to himself; at this rate, he will never finish. The next item on his list is an artist called Miley Cyrus, but Steve has hesitated to listen to her after the whole “Aqua” fiasco. Most modern music sounds just like noise to Steve, and after trying out a few new bands, Steve spent most of his days off, scouring flea markets for old gramophone records of the music he used to listen to; Ella Fitzgerald, The Andrew Sisters… now that’s music. Music you can dance to, fall in love to. Steve used to be secretly in love with Maxene, but when he finally met her, while entertaining the troops overseas, he couldn’t get a word out.  
     A knock on the door tears Steve’s mind away from the dust of the past. Every fiber in his body is alert all at once before he remembers that possible assassins and/or captors probably wouldn’t be polite enough to knock. He stands from where he has been sitting on the bed and answers the door.  
     “Bucky? You alright?”  
     Bucky nods silently. His dark hair, freshly washed from the look of it, falls into his eyes. “Just that damn heat,” he then says with a twitch of his lips and heart-breakingly reminds Steve of the man Bucky used to be. The man in front of him is a starved shadow of his friend, but Steve is determined to find the old Bucky again, even if it means dragging him out by the roots of his hair.  
  
_Yous is still my baby, baby, or has that flame in your heart done and gone out…_  
  
They sit together on the bed, each sipping a small bottle of cheap gin from the surprisingly well-stocked mini bar. The heat swells around them like a thick, wet blanket, and the alcohol isn’t helping either. Steve has never really learned to appreciate the stuff; ever since his transformation rendered him unable to get drunk, Steve has lost almost all interest in even trying. Bucky seems to enjoy it, though, and there isn’t much Steve wouldn’t do to make Bucky enjoy himself.  
     “Still working on that list, huh?” Bucky asks, poking the notebook next to Steve on the bed. “Guess I should make a list, too. Missed even more than you did.”  
     Steve shrugs. “Modern pop culture isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, to be honest. Except Tim Tams.”  
     The corners of Bucky’s lips twitch again into an almost-smile. “You’re an idiot.”  
     “Says the guy who doesn’t appreciate the greatness of Tim Tams.”  
  
_A fella is a creature that has always been strange…_  
  
There are tiny pearls of sweat forming at the edge of Bucky’s hairline.  
  
_When you think you're sure of one, he's gone and made a change…_  
  
There’s a small pile of empty gin bottles on the floor next to the bed. Bucky is on his knees, and his hair is sticking to Steve’s thighs. Steve’s legs are draped over Bucky’s shoulders, his ass perched right on the edge of the mattress, slipping further and further down. There’s something even hotter than the weather pulsing between them, and it fluctuates in time with the beating of Steve’s heart and the throbbing of his dick. He hisses as Bucky’s nails dig into the flesh of his hip, holding him in place with the one hand Bucky has left.  
     It doesn’t even matter how they got here or how voices of Steve’s past chant “queer!” and “faggot!” inside his head; the only thing Steve really cares about right now is Bucky’s lips wrapped tightly around his dick, sucking it with a level of skill that heavily implies that this isn’t the first dick Bucky Barnes has sucked. The stubble on his cheeks is rubbing against the sensitive skin of the inside of Steve’s thigh, chafing it raw and red, as raw and red as everything Steve feels and doesn’t feel for Bucky. Steve is so deeply submerged in the convulsion of his own lust that it takes a while before he realizes that the burner phone on the mattress has been vibrating angrily. There are only a very small handful of people who has the number, and before he can stop himself, Steve reaches out to answer it.  
     “Don’t even ask me how I got this number.” Tony’s voice is tight, clipped, but familiar. “Actually, no, do ask me, because it’s pretty impressive.”  
  
_Is you is or is you ain't my baby? Well, maybe baby found somebody new?_  
  
”How did you get this number?” Bucky isn’t stopping, and Steve isn’t telling him to.  
     “I’m not going to tell you,” Tony says with what sounds like childish glee. Steve’s dick is straining in its own skin, and his toes are curling. “Now shut up and listen for a second.”  
     There is an uncomfortable silence during which the only thing that can be heard is the slick movements of Bucky’s lips.  
     “We’re not gonna see eye to eye on this, Cap. We’re not—you fucked up, okay? You fucked up nice and good, but—well, _maybe_ I handled things a bit too—irrationally. You know how completely I hate irrationality.”  
     “Yeah,” Steve replies dumbly. Silence falls between them again. Steve’s fingers are twisting in Bucky’s hair, tugging at it every time Bucky’s head moves downwards.  
     “Yeah, well,” Tony says with the smallest of sighs, “I’m not going to report you or come after you and your friend. Just do whatever it is you think you have to do.”  
     “Thanks, Tony, really. Thanks,” Steve breathes out and hangs up the phone just in time before his orgasm explodes into Bucky’s mouth.  
  
_Or is my baby still my baby too?_

~*~

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own none of this.


End file.
